


The Language of Flowers

by smarmy_gryffindor



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:48:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarmy_gryffindor/pseuds/smarmy_gryffindor
Summary: Many cultures assign symbolism to different kinds of flowers, potentially turning any bouquet into a coded message. A rose means devotion, a clover says 'think of me', a pomegranate symbolizes conceit. Do you know the language of flowers? Would you like to learn?Takes place a few months after the events in Blood of Olympus, focusing completely on giving two side characters more dimensions (because I'm petty and annoyed at Riordan not understanding his own female characters). The flower thing is just a motif, it's actually about two strong-willed teenage girls realizing they have more in common with each other than they thought. Also they're gay. Just read it, thanks.





	1. Chapter 1

Laurel Victor hacked at the dirt beneath her with a ferocious intensity. This was partly because she was Laurel Victor, and she liked to think that she hacked at _everything_ she did with a ferocious intensity. It was also partially because, though she would never admit it, she was particularly annoyed with herself for impulsively agreeing to help the handful of Aphrodite kids finish tilling the half-acre of soil -soon to be a strawberry field- to which they were assigned. Laurel disliked chores and manual labor as much as the next half-blood teenager (or any teenager, really), but when she’d heard Chiron remark that he was sure Drew and her siblings would be up for the task because “Aphrodite’s children are known for being the _most_ helpful and compassionate of the campers”, Laurel couldn’t help but bristle. Whoever said they were _automatically_ the best at being helpful and compassionate? Laurel could be _so_ helpful and compassionate. She would out-help and out-compassion all four of them _put together._

At least, that’s what she had been thinking when she insisted she be a part of the strawberry-planting effort. Chiron had beamed at her and pointed the five of them toward the acre in question. It didn’t take Laurel long to realize she was not only the best at tilling the future strawberry field, she was also the only one doing very much tilling at all. In the time it took her to till an entire row, Lacy, Mitchell, and Adrian had barely started. Drew, on the other hand, had not even bothered to pick up her spade, choosing instead to stand by the sidelines and look bored.

“Hey, princess! Do you _mind?_ No, not you,” Laurel said when Drew’s sister looked up quizzically. “I mean the one being useless.”

Drew made a show of examining her fingernails, today painted fire engine red to match her lipstick and eyeliner. “The more time you spend yelling at me instead of working, the more time we’re all stuck out here, you know.”

“If you’d actually _help-_ ” Laurel started, irritated.

“Oh, please. You know as well as I do we aren’t meant for this kind of grunt work,” she said, motioning toward her siblings. They looked up hopefully, happy to have any excuse to not finish the boring “grunt work”, as Drew put it.

“And I _am_?”

Drew motioned at Laurel’s handiwork, smiling in that faux-saccharine way of hers. “If the shoe fits…” She noticed Laurel’s glare and switched tactics. “You’ve already done such a better job than us anyways, hon. Wouldn’t it be easier to just finish it on your own than have us slowing you down?”

Laurel had to admit, Drew had a point. She was clearly far better at tilling than any of them were, just as she’d suspected. Why should she share the accomplishment of getting so much dirt ready for planting with a couple dumb old-

Wait a minute. “Don’t you _dare_ try to charmspeak me!” Laurel snapped, raising her hoe above her head and taking a step toward Drew. She _hated_ other people trying to take control, especially with an underhanded trick like that. (Not that Laurel herself was necessarily above underhanded tricks, but that was beside the point.) “You lousy, lazy-”

“Alright, alright!” Drew quickly conceded, raising her hands in conciliation as she stumbled backward, awkwardly grabbing at her hoe. Whether it was to actually start working, or to fend off Laurel’s impending attack, Laurel wasn’t sure.

Laurel stopped charging toward Drew, mollified -for the moment, at least. Seeing she was out of impending danger, Drew seemed to decide to continue to be annoying, and smiled mischievously. “You have to admit, it was worth a shot.”

Despite herself, Laurel found herself fighting down a grin. Drew really wasn’t even the slightest bit sorry about trying to get her way however she could. Laurel could almost respect that.

She bit her cheek, managing to scowl. Drew was using her stupid Aphrodite-charm-powers _again,_ making Laurel think she was being funny when she was actually only being bratty. “Just do your part. Or I’ll tell McLean you’re still trying to charmspeak campers, and she’ll put you on trash duty. Again.”

Drew’s expression changed nigh on instantly from smug to worried to angry. She pursed her lips, as if resisting the urge to mouth off, and finally started working. Her brothers and sister, who Laurel now realized were trying their best not to laugh as they watched the exchange, went back to work as well.

Satisfied in the small victory, Laurel turned around and started whacking at the earth with renewed vigor.

With Laurel helping -no, _leading-_ the quintet, they finished the job in less than an hour. She had done a larger chunk of the tilling than any of the others, _and_ kept the other four on task. So, definitely a win. She nodded at the freshly-tilled soil, satisfied. “Great work! Let’s go tell Chiron we’re done.” She motioned energetically for the children of Aphrodite to follow her back toward the Big House.

“Bossy much?” Adrian muttered as he dragged his hoe behind him, acting far more tired than he had a right to considering how little he’d actually done.

“Yep,” Laurel snorted in reply, spinning around to walk backward so she could face him. “I’m not a head counsellor for nothing!”

“ _Co-_ head counsellor, you mean,” Drew piped up for the first time since their earlier argument. “You share the position with your twin sister, don’t you, sweetie?”

Laurel did her best not to show that Drew’s comment piqued her. “I still outrank _you._ ” Damn. She could’ve come up with a better comeback than that. She _should’ve_ come up with a better comeback than that. “ _Sweetie,”_ Laurel added in a mocking imitation of Drew’s syrupy tone. There, that was at least a little bit better. Laurel grinned fiercely at Drew, then turned around quickly to walk normally, just in case any of them could tell she’d been thrown off by Drew’s needling reminder that she wasn’t, actually, the _real_ leader of her cabin. First place doesn’t count if you have to share it, after all.

After a few moments of walking in silence, Drew’s siblings filled the awkward conversational void with a rousing discussion of some race involving someone named Rupaul. Or something like that, Laurel wasn’t really paying attention, preferring instead to go through the various traits she shared, or didn’t share, with her twin sister. It was just a mental exercise, a way to ensure that they were _both_ living up to their potential. That was all. No big deal. It’s not like she was doing anything _wrong_ by acknowledging that she was definitely at least marginally better at climbing the rock lava wall than her sister. Or remembering that one time in the eighth grade when Holly had lost two points for misspelling ‘armament’ with an extra ‘m’ on an essay for an assignment that Laurel had gotten a perfect 100 on.

“…Laurel?”

Laurel paused in her train of thought when she heard her name. “What?”

“I asked if you would be willing to help us get this garden thing started,” Lacy repeated. “We have potted flowers already, but me and Nicole have been talking about starting a real garden outside the cabin. With roses and tulips and things like that!”

Laurel grimaced at the idea of _more_ planting. “You should really ask one of the Demeter kids, they can make things grow the fastest if you’re just looking for more kinds of flowers.”

“Well, honestly, we thought it would be more fun to grow them ourselves,” Lacy went on. “It’ll be, I don’t know. Cooler that way.”

Laruel shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t know. Not really my thing.”

Lacy shrugged back. “I like flowers.”

Drew spoke up. “What kind of flowers are you planting?”

Lacy gave her a suspicious look before answering, “We haven’t decided yet,” and turning back to look at Laurel. “What kind of flowers do you like, Laurel?”

Laurel shrugged again. “I don’t really have an opinion on flowers.”

Drew snorted.

Laurel turned to look at her, annoyed. “What?”

“You think you’re too tough for flowers,” Drew replied, smirking. Laurel could hear the laughter in her voice, and it annoyed her more than it probably should have. Seeing the look on her face, Drew smiled more widely, evidently deciding to keep pushing her luck. “Don’t you ever wonder if you’re trying too hard to prove you’re all...” She trailed off, motioning toward Laurel vaguely and _smiling_ like that.

Laurel knew she was being baited. She should just roll her eyes and ignore Drew, she told herself. “All _what?”_ she snapped anyways.

“All…in charge of everything,” Drew finally said, faux-thoughtfully. She could tell that she had Laurel’s attention, and was milking it for all it was worth. Laurel could tell by the way the side of her mouth, ultra-defined by flawless red lipstick, curled up smugly. “You _really_ want to be the toughest one here, don’t you, honey?”

“Why don’t you just shut the hell up, for once?” Laurel finally snapped. Thank _gods_ they were almost to the Big House. She considered telling the children of Aphrodite that she would tell Chiron they were done on her own, and not to follow her. She didn’t _have_ to talk to them, if she didn’t want to.

“Aw. Did I hit a nerve, sweetheart?” Drew asked. Her voice was like that artificial sweetener Laurel sometimes put in her coffee at home; sweet if diluted but bitter on its own, and maybe even cancerous.

Laurel switched directions before she was even aware she’d decided to, stomping over until she was right in front of Drew, glaring slightly up at her. “You know what? All you do is talk, but you can’t back it up. You don’t even try. You just sit back and let everyone else do the real work, take the _real_ risks, but won’t ever get your own hands dirty.” She saw something in Drew’s smug expression falter, and pressed on the one button she knew Drew had, since she’d made it so obvious at that campfire meeting all those months ago. “That’s why you’ve never been on a _real_ quest, and you never will. That’s why you’ll never have a chance with someone like Grace.”

Drew had opened her mouth to speak halfway through Laurel’s tirade, but seemed to have forgotten how to speak as soon as she mentioned Jason Grace -eyes wide, face frozen with shock and anger.

Satisfied that she’d finally wiped that smug look off her face, Laurel turned to Lacy and grinned, too satisfied with herself to care if Lacy seemed a little taken aback by her outburst. “I’ll help you with your garden if you tell Chiron we’re done for me. See you at the campfire tonight to talk details.”

Without waiting for an answer, Laurel turned and walked away in the direction of her own cabin.


	2. Chapter 2

Lacy, as per the plan that Laurel had functionally created all on her own earlier that day in her haste to leave, approached Laurel at the campfire to tell Laurel when they had decided to get started on the garden. “We’re going to start tomorrow after breakfast, planting a rosebush, the yellow kind- I didn’t even know that you could grow roses yellow, I thought those were painted- and maybe some pretty white ones called ‘acacias’, I think yellow and white to start with will go really well with the cabin’s color scheme-”

Laurel, mouth full of hot dog and having forgotten she’d even agreed to help (having been so busy at the time being annoyed by Drew’s needling), thought about spending her morning planting flowers and chattering away about a color scheme and had to restrain herself from wincing. Why did she even agree to this? She should be spending her time training, making sure that she’s the best of the best, not doing something as frivolous as planting flowers. She swallowed her mouthful with no small effort. “I don’t know if-” she began to say, trying to think of a way to back out of the whole ‘gardening’ thing without seeming wishy-washy, but coming up empty.

“This garden is going to look __so cool,”__ Lacy gushed. “Thank you so much for agreeing to help with it!”

“You’re welcome, but-”

“If it goes anything like how tilling the strawberry field went, you’re gonna be a __huge__ help,” Lacy continued sweetly.

Laurel was at a loss. She couldn’t go back on her word now, especially not since Lacy seemed so excited. “I guess I am,” she relented. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And so, for the second time in a week, Laurel found herself looking at the dirt she was assigned to prepare for planting, and cursing herself for impulsively agreeing to help Aphrodite kids with something in order to prove a point. “Where do you want the rosebush?” she asked Lacy, somewhat reluctantly.

“Near the edge, so it’ll stand out from the front view,” Lacy responded from the path between cabins, businesslike. “It’ll look __so__ pretty when it blooms!”

Laurel knelt by the dirt and plunged her handheld shovel into it, beginning to dig the hole where the bush would be planted. Nicole had instructed her that the hole for their rosebush needed to be at least a foot and a half deep, and that would take a few minutes to dig. __Maybe I can just help plant the bush and then get out of here,__ Laurel thought, hoping she could make it to the war game drills her cabin had planted for the day before she missed too much.

As she was digging, she heard the window a few feet above her head swing open. “Well what do you know,” an unfortunately familiar, syrupy voice rang out. “Looks like you’re __not__ too tough to care about flowers, after all.”

Lacy restrained herself from even looking up at Drew, partially to avoid giving her the satisfaction of seeing her frustration. “Looks like __you’re__ still too dainty to get your hands dirty,” Laurel replied, without looking up from the slowly-growing hole she was digging.

Drew huffed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, hon.”

“Oh yeah?” Laurel was starting to __seriously__ regret agreeing to this. She turned and looked up at Drew, imitating as closely as she could Drew’s smarmy expression when saying something passive-aggressive. “If I don’t know what I’m talking about, how come you’re __still__ just watching while other people do all the work?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Drew scoffed. “ _ _I’m__ not the one who was so eager to get the last word I agreed to something I didn’t want to do.”

Laurel scowled. “Who says I don’t want to?”

“ _ _You__ did, hon. Yesterday.” Drew’s smile widened. “You didn’t get so upset you forgot all about saying flowers ‘aren’t your thing’, did you?”

Laurel was about to retort, when Lacy chimed in, “Do you need any help, Laurel?”

Laurel glanced away from Drew to Lacy, who was making her way toward the soon-to-be flower garden and pointedly looking down at the dirt instead of at Drew, nervously biting her lip.

Laurel decided to take her cue from Lacy, and ignore Drew altogether. “Actually, yeah. The hole needs to be pretty big-”

“Why don’t you let the grown-ups talk, sweetie,” Drew interrupted. Lacy’s steps faltered, as if she wasn’t sure which direction she wanted to go.

Laurel motioned her closer. “Needs to be pretty big for the rosebush to grow right,” she continued, as if she hadn’t heard Drew at all.

Lacy paused, then joined Laurel on the ground. “We’ll still have room for the other flowers, right?”

“Yeah, Nicole said they just needed to be a certain distance apart-”

“Excuseme,” Drew tried again to interrupt.

Laurel ignored her. “I forget exactly how far apart they need to be, though. Do you know where she went?”

“She’s trying to get the rest of the seeds from the Demeter cabin,” Lacy replied, following Laurel’s lead.

“ _ _Excuse__ me,” Drew said again.

“Yeah, Drew,” Laurel snapped, forgetting her decision to just ignore her. “ _ _Excuse__ you. If you’re not gonna help us with the garden, don’t bother trying to talk.”

Drew just stared, apparently at a loss. Laurel rolled her eyes -Drew was so used to being able to bully people with her charmspeak and fake nicey-nice crap, she couldn’t handle it when someone just called her on it outright- and continued talking to Lacy. “Well, you can start digging the holes at the other end of the garden, that way we won’t get in each others’ way-”

Drew slammed the window shut indignantly. Laurel smiled to herself in satisfaction. She’d won.

Lacy let out a breath of air. “I’m so sorry about her,” she started.

Laurel shook her head. “Nah, don’t be. It’s not your fault.” They continued chatting comfortably and digging for a few more minutes, Laurel’s mood having risen a fair bit in light of her small victory, until they heard the door to the Aphrodite cabin swing open.

Laurel looked toward the noise and was surprised to see Drew, somehow making an old worn-out orange Camp Half Blood T-shirt look like it belonged on a runway, making her way toward the flowerbed with an determined look on her face.

Laurel groaned. “ _ _Now__ what do you want?”

Drew flounced in between the two girls, lowering herself to the ground to kneel beside them with exaggerated dignity. Lacy looked nervous; Laurel rolled her eyes. “If you two __insist__ on planting flowers, I can’t let you have total creative control,” Drew responded loftily. “You’ll just __ruin__ the cabin’s aesthetic.”

“Why don’t you just-”

“You said I was too __dainty__ to get my hands dirty,” Drew interrupted Laurel, dropping her haughty tone for an angry one -a tone Laurel thought might have even been genuine. “You’re wrong.”

To prove it, Drew stretched her immaculately manicured fingers out before her, and then dramatically plunged them into the dirt beneath her. She then turned to Laurel, beaming with smug self-satisfaction.

Laurel stared for a moment, and then started to laugh. “You could’ve used a shovel,” she pointed out, pointing toward the nearby pile of gardening tools from which she and Lacy had grabbed the tools they were using to dig.

Lacy giggled. Drew’s expression shifted from smug, to surprised, to angry. “That’s not the __point.__ I’m showing- I just proved you wrong!”

“Sure, but you’re still not actually helping,” Laurel responded, pleased to have regained the upper hand after Drew’s surprising emergence from the cabin. “If you’re serious about helping, grab a tool and help us dig holes for when Nicole gets back.”

Drew scowled, and for a moment Laurel was sure she was about to flounce off to go fix her manicure. Laurel smirked, but her celebration was premature; Drew grumbled, reached across the flowerbed, and grabbed a shovel of her own. “If you can do it, I can do it,” she said, almost to herself rather than to Laurel, as she plunged the shovel into the earth.

Laurel blinked. Apparently, Drew was serious about helping -which was not good for Laurel, since the only thing that could make planting flowers a __less__ worthwhile activity was planting flowers right next to the obnoxious ex-queen bee of the Aphrodite cabin. “You don’t- uh, you mean, you actually __want__ to help with the garden?”

Drew paused for a second, then smiled at Laurel once again, all faux-sweetness and self assured “charm” once more. “Oh, I want to plant these flowers __just__ as much as __you__ do, sweetie.” She cocked her head. “Don’t you __want__ more help? To make the project go faster?”

The meaning of her words was obvious: she was surreptitiously, underhandedly accusing Laurel, once again, of only doing this because Laurel had something to prove. Worse, now if __Laurel__ quit, or insisted on Drew leaving, it would reveal that Drew was right. But by letting her stay, she was proving Laurel wrong about __her,__ and putting Laurel in a position of doing something else Laurel didn’t want to do -hang out and cooperate with Drew- in order to save face. Drew had her cornered, and Drew knew it.

Laurel fumed. Drew smiled sweetly, and went back to digging.

Lacy made eye contact with her, behind Drew’s back. She shrugged helplessly, and went back to digging as well.

There was nothing she could do but dig along. Laurel Victor once again hacked at the ground beneath her furiously, not caring if it showed how angry she was, and began to plan her next move in this now- _ _official__ contest of wills between her and Drew Tanaka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really know fuckall about gardening and flowers, and I don't know why I chose it for the setting of this story.
> 
> Anyhow, I would really like to hear feedback -it's such a rarepair and f/f so I know there's not gonna be a whole lot of interest, haha- so please leave a comment! :>


End file.
